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sunshiney-souls · 6 years

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collar full // chp 1

Summary// Skye, Peter and Ned are best friends and are finally going on their long-awaited Fine Arts Field Trip

Warning// mild iw spoilers (?), your new favorite trio of teenage dorks, nothing too serious yet

Word count// 1,862

a/n// hey everyone! this is my second series but it’s the one i’m more serious about! if you happen to like this, lemme know! please i would love feedback. also, just send me an ask or something if you’d like to be tagged in the following chapters of this :)

Skye Harper, Peter Parker and Ned Leeds; The three musketeers of Queens New York. For as long as anyone can remember, these three have been the definition of best friends. Peter and Ned lived next to each other since Peter was five. Little Ned and Peter would run up and down the halls of the apartment building for hours, their little giggles and footsteps bounced off the old walls of the building. After the two kids turned seven, Skye moved in across from Ned. Skye started out being a shy, quiet and reserved little girl. Of course, this was before she met the two rowdy little boys

So it was written in the stars that the three would become best friends. They spent every waking hour together, doing whatever their minds thought of. This obviously led to them all going to Midtown together. Luckily, this didn’t change the fact that they were inseparable

They grew together during their Freshmen and Sophomore year. They all took as many of the same classes as they could. They even all agreed to be in Fine Art classes, even if they all had different interests. Skye had joined Midtown’s Varsity Choir, Ned was a crew member in Theatre Arts, and Peter had worked his way up to Advanced Marching band. High school was going great for the little ban of kids

Then came the day of the Fine Arts Field Trip.

“Skye, come on! We’re going to be late!” Ned continued to bang his fist on his across-the-hall neighbor’s door, in hopes to hurry her up.

When he realized it wouldn’t speed her up, he grabbed the spare key from its hiding place and unlocked the door. He put the key back and then walked into the seemingly empty apartment.

“Skye?” He spoke, looking around. Soon after, he heard a thud followed by a drawn out groan. His head snapped to the direction of the noise, followed by his eyes rolling. He already knew what happened and his arms crossed as he let a scoff escape his mouth.

“Hey dude, where is she?” Peter soon appeared next to Ned, slinging his backpack onto his shoulders. Ned gestured to Skye’s room, where she soon threw the door open and rushed out.

Her hair was its normal self, a mop of loose curls, flowing from her head. She never had to worry about fixing it, seeing how the curls seemed to have a mind of their own in styling themselves. She had thrown on her signature high waist, light-washed jeans, which were rolled up at the ankles. She wore a yellow shirt, tucked into her jeans.

She slid out of her room, onto the hardwood floor of her hallway; her mismatched socks didn’t give her much traction as she slid to her shoes. She leaned on Ned for support as she slid on the high tops.

“I know, i know,” She started, pushing off of Ned and rushing to the table. “my alarm didn’t go off when it was supposed to!” she quickly rushed the words out of her mouth, worrying that speaking would slow her down. She grabbed her backpack and slung it over one shoulder. She rushed back to her room and grabbed her navy hoodie. The threw it on and shook her hair out of her face. She rushed back to her friends and caught her breath. “Mornin’ boys.” She gave her hair a flick to get out of her face, and a smirk found its way onto her mouth.

With a sigh from the boys and a laugh from the girl, the trio left the building. They made their way to the sidewalk and started their way through the streets of Queens, New York. Skye stood in the middle of Ned and Peter, kind of their way of protecting her, even though she was more than capable of protecting herself.

These walks were normally filled with light-hearted conversation, words bouncing back and fourth and commonly interrupted by small bursts of laughter. They talked about anything and everything, including Peter being Spider-man. Yes, Peter wanted to keep it a secret, and it was going good until Ned found out. It wasn’t long until Ned couldn’t keep his cool and spilled to Skye. It helped that Skye noticed bruises appearing on his skin and decided to confront the both of them about it. Skye became very worried and concerned for Peter and insisted he came to her house every night after his surveillance run, so she could clean him up before he ran off to May.

The three Juniors neared the school, a steady stream of students trickling in, seeing as it wasn’t too terribly close to eight a.m., the kids still had some time. They walked to the doors and Peter held it open for Ned and Skye. They all had lockers in the same hallway, but spread out. They went their separate ways to exchange things from their lockers.

Skye probably had the most organized locker of them all. All her books were stacked nicely and right next to their corresponding binders, which held notes and assignments for said class. She had an extra hoodie, neatly folded in the bottom section of her locker. She prided herself in having a clean and organized locker.

Ned’s locker wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t prim and proper, but he had all his books laying in there, binders on the bottom section, and some loose paper here and there. He made sure to lay his textbooks on their sides so he could place his lunch bag on top on them, just so his sandwich wouldn’t get squished.

It was Peter who had the messiest locker. Loose and crumpled papers everywhere, textbooks laying every which way, too many jackets for one person were stuffed into it as well. He never set things into his locker nicely, like most do. Oh no, he threw his things into his locker. He wasn’t even mad when he did it, he would simply toss whichever book into his locker and hope it didn’t bounce out.

Once they all got their textbooks and whatever else they needed for their first period, they met up in their class, Algebra 2. They had all signed up to be put in the honors class, which happened to be the first period. They picked a cluster of desks in the back corner of the room, furthest away from the door. Ned sat in front of Skye, who sat next to Peter. Ned and Skye both understood algebra fairly well, and never needed much help from anyone but each other. Peter sat next to Skye due to the fact that he never paid attention and she was a better teacher to him than Ned was.

The Algebra 2 teacher droned on and on about conics and how to make equations for circles and parabolas and whatnot. Skye almost fell asleep many times, her head almost landing on Peter’s desk; which had happened before. Peter never minded, he would simply run his fingers through her curls, he found it amusing. Skye’s hair was soft and smooth and it have Peter something to do while he tried to understand what was going on.

Suddenly, there was a loud, obnoxious beep.

“Please excuse this interruption; those participating in the Fine Arts Field Trip need to be dismissed now and will report to their Fine Arts teachers. Thank you.”

The three shot our of their desks, along with others, and made their way out of class. They stopped by their lockers again, putting their algebra things away and grabbing whatever they needed for the trip ahead of them.

They all met back up for the short walk to each of their classes; Skye went to the music room with Peter while Ned made his way to the stage. They promised each other they would sit near each other on the bus.

“So, you ready for this, Parker?” Skye nudged his arm with her elbow, the same smirk as before was on her face. Peter rolled his eyes.

“I mean, we get out of school for a day to roam the streets of New York, of course I’m ready.” He shot back, or at least he tried. With Skye, Peter’s playfully rude antics never worked, and he never knew why. With everyone else, he could completely fool them into thinking he was legitimately rude and pissed. But Skye, for whatever reason, was different and Peter still hadn’t figured it out. Was it because she was his best girl friend? Maybe. Was it because she could to sarcasm and playful rude comments better than anyone? That was definitely a serious point to take into consideration, but it wasn’t the whole reason.

He always mentally shrugged to himself before he thought about it for too long.

“I’ve heard there’s this super cool nerd store that i’ve been dying to check out. Ive been saving up ever since they announced this trip.” Skye excitedly spoke, words flowing out of her mouth with ease. She waved her wallet in the air at Peter, as if to prove how excited she is. Skye’s smile was contagious and soon Peter found himself smiling as well.

“Nerd store?” He laughed.

“It’s called Boxed Lunch and they have these cool things from different fandoms. They have Disney, different animes, different bands, and so on. It’s like a more sophisticated Hot Topic... almost.” She babbled on and on. Peter nodded, understanding. Peter knew how much Skye loved shopping at Hot Topic and made a mental note to check out that store for her birthday, which was in a week.

After a few more minutes of taking roll of all the band and choir kids, Peter and Skye were a part of the huge heard that was moving itself through the halls to the bus. This was something Skye had adapted to doing in big crowds. She did it with whoever she as with, except with Peter was the only person whose arm she hung on to.

Once they were on the bus, Peter took a window seat while Skye sat next to him. She pulled out her earbuds and gave him one. It was tradition that whoever Skye sat next to, she shared her earbuds. Both Ned and Peter liked her taste in music and they never wanted to risk their phone battery running out. Skye always carried her portable charger and didn’t trust her boys to hang on to it.

“Ned! Over here!” Skye yelled to the last person of their group. Ned’s head perked up and he quickly made his way to the seat in front of them.

“I’m so psyched for this trip!” Ned said, sitting next to the girl that was already in that seat. The two nodded as Skye scrolled through her music to pick a song. The bus lurched forward and she was still deciding. Peter leaned onto her shoulder and tapped a random song.

“Come on Harper, we ain’t got all day.” He tried, once again, to sound rude; but she gave him a side glance and Peter felt his mouth turn up into a smile.

Tag list: @topisdead

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realisticallycynical · 7 years

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A Little Like Whiplash

(based on this, part two of this, Russian translations under the story itself)

Jonathan isn’t generally a judgemental person. He likes to think that he sees the best in most people, even if they don’t deserve it.

For some reason, he’s never been able to do that with Yuri Plisetsky, the Russian bombshell that nobody knows or cares to know because he’s terrifying and has a tendency to be an asshole.

He has the distinct impression that Yuri, despite clearly not being a scholarship kid (he’s wearing designer everything, and he drives a Maserati; there’s no way that he came to Portland State for any reason other than that he wanted to), would rather be anywhere but here. He sleeps through the two classes that he shares with Jonathan, and for some reason, the professors allow it. If he was a bit less of an antisocial shit, though, Jonathan would probably have a crush; for all his faults, Yuri is one the most attractive person that he’s ever seen outside of magazines with his immaculately braided, waist-length hair and pouty lips and perfect eyeliner (Jonathan is sure he’s the only one that’s noticed that last bit; the subtlety of it is the reason it’s so damn perfect).

The first time he ever actually says anything, it’s one of those days that the professor decides, for whatever reason, not to show up for class. Until the fifteen minute limit passes, the class hums with a low buzz of noise. Yuri, predictably, is asleep.

Jonathan has a few friends in this class, Anthony and Thomas, and they’re chatting quietly about the baseball game on Saturday. Somehow, the topic shifts to that one asshole that’s always sleeping through class.

“Fifteen minutes!” The girl by the door calls out, and the class gets up.

“I’m just saying, why pay for the classes if you’re just gonna sleep through them?” Anthony says, shouldering his bag and heading for the door.

There’s a snort from behind them. Veronica. Jonathan really doesn’t want to deal with her right now; she’s even worse than Yuri, if only because she isn’t quiet about her disdain for the rest of them. “You know they only accept applications from people like him because he’s part of a minority, right?”

When she sees Jonathan’s raised eyebrows, she mistakes his irritation for curiosity. “Come on, don’t tell me you can’t tell. He’s a goddamn fairy.”

He’s wondering if outing himself here and now would make the situation better or worse when there’s an angry “Huh?” from behind them. The loud bang that follows terrifies all of them, but particularly Jonathan, Veronica, and the other two. Jonathan hadn’t even noticed that Yuri was awake, much less that he was nearby. Now his foot is against the wall, not even an inch from Veronica’s head (flexible, Jonathan can’t help but think). The look on his face pumps shards of ice through Jonathan’s veins.

“There is nothing wrong with being gay,” he growls.

His voice is different than Jonathan would have expected; maybe it’s a bit stereotypical, but he’d expected a low tenor, rather than a mezzo baritone, and his accent is there, but not nearly as thick as Jonathan expected. He stalks out of the room dangerously, and the entire class just stands there in shock for a moment.

Next week, when Veronica stops coming to class and he hears that she’s been expelled, Jonathan is sure that it has everything to do with the rich guy sleeping two seats behind him.

“Jonathan, there are only three people in your group for the upcoming term paper,” the professor says, jolting Jonathan out of his thoughts. It’s true; he, Anthony, and Thomas are planning on working together, since there were an odd number of people in the class. Now that Veronica is gone, that’s not true anymore. “I’m assigning Yuri to your group.”

Fantastic, Jonathan thinks, glancing at Yuri.

He looks up blearily and mutters something in the most snide, sarcastic voice Jonathan has ever heard– yoroshiku onegaishimasu –before dropping his head back on his arms. That didn’t sound like Russian, Jonathan thinks, packing up to leave.

Thomas nudges him. “Dude!” he whispers. “He speaks Japanese? What the hell? And I think that was supposed to be polite, but it sounded like an insult.”

“He can also hear you,” comes from behind them. Yuri has apparently given up on sleep since class is over, and has his phone in his hand. The one that isn’t texting reaches behind him and tugs on something that releases the bun he’s sporting today, letting the waist-length braid fall down his back. He leans his face in one hand and stares at his phone boredly. “You three aren’t the most oblivious people I know, but you’re definitely in the top twenty.”

Jonathan doesn’t know what to say, really. The hottest, laziest guy in class is in a group with him for a paper that’s worth twenty percent of their grade, and their first conversation has gotten off to the worst start possible.

“So,” Anthony says awkwardly. “When do you guys want to meet up?”

“I’m only free on Tuesdays. Yuri, I’m pretty sure you only have class twice a week? Maybe we can meet up for lunch,” Thomas says, trying a friendly approach.

“I can’t meet up on my days off. I have training. It’s a paper on the Japan’s involvement in World War II and how it affects today, right?” Yuri asks, still looking bored.

“Yeah. What do you mean? Do you practice all day on every one of your days off or something?” Anthony sounds mildly teasing, but there’s an undertone of disbelief there.

Yuri looks at Anthony, as if he can’t believe he would ask such a stupid question. “Um, yes? What else would I be doing?”

None of them really has a response for that. Yuri doesn’t look like the athletic type, really. He’s lean, almost willowy; not skinny by any means, since there’s definitely muscle there, but it’s not the build Jonathan would expect from an athlete who practices as much as Yuri claims to.

“Anyway, I’ll deal with the history part,” Yuri says, standing up and stretching. Jonathan tries not to stare at the thin strip of skin that appears when he does. What? He may be an asshole, but Yuri is gorgeous. He’d have to be dead not to notice. “I’ll have it to you by… Tuesday, right?”

“I can do Tuesday,” Jonathan says, not really sure what’s happening anymore.

“So can I.”

Yuri blinks and glances at the table searchingly. “Right,” he says, picking up a sticky note he’d left there and scribbling something down. “Here’s my number. Text me your emails and I’ll send you my part of the project. Bye.”

He walks out of the room, phone already at his ear. “Beka! Vy prikhodite na obed segodnya?”

Jonathan looks at Anthony and Thomas, not totally sure what just happened. “So who’s going to pick up the slack on his part?”

That’s not actually necessary, it turns out. Jonathan sent Yuri his email out of courtesy, but when he rolls out of bed on Saturday morning, he finds four pages of 12 point Times New Roman font on Japan’s involvement in World War II, complete with instructions to let Yuri know if there’s anything else that they want him to do (but he won’t be doing the whole damn thing, he doesn’t have time for that).

Except for a few grammatical errors, there’s almost nothing wrong with the work. Jonathan is floored. Maybe this is why the professors let Yuri sleep through class. It’s disrespectful as all hell, but from the way he writes, it’s almost like he doesn’t need to be there at all.

When he’s awake and recovered enough to send a reply, he does. He lets Yuri that there’s nothing wrong with the work, and that he’s looking forward to class on Wednesday. He’s not, but it’s the polite thing to do.

Apparently, Yuri doesn’t planning on extending the same courtesy. “Can’t make it,” he says again, looking bored as he taps away on his phone.

This time, Jonathan actually speaks up. “We could meet up after you’re done with practice or something. It actually works out better for me and Anthony, since we have class on Tuesday.”

“That would work, I guess, but I’m going to be in Japan on Tuesday.” The tone of Yuri’s voice doesn’t change, despite the bomb he’s just dropped.

Why the hell would anyone just up and leave for Japan in the middle of the semester? No matter how rich Yuri is (and he’s definitely rich; they may not know anything about him, but he’s definitely a rich Russian of some sort) it makes no sense. He’s going to miss at least three days of class even if he’s only going to be in Japan for one day, which Jonathan highly doubts. He doesn’t care how pretty or smart this kid thinks he is, there’s no way for him to pass his classes with the way he acts.

“Then cancel it.” He doesn’t even realize that he’s saying the words until they’re out of his mouth, and by then it’s too late.

The look that Yuri fixes on him is as dangerous as it was that day with Veronica. “Fuck you.”

Jonathan backpedals. “I didn’t mean–”

Yuri’s phone rings, cutting him off. The ringtone in itself is enough to cause all three jaws to drop; it’s some classical thing with a boys’ choir singing in what sounds like Latin. Yuri sneers at them, and Jonathan can’t help but think he may have fucked up pretty bad. “Just send me whatever part you want me to handle for the presentation and I’ll do it. Tell me to cancel my trip again, and I won’t do my bit. I’ll still pass without this stupid project.”

He gets up and stalks toward the door, picking up the phone. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way to the parking lot now. Shit! Would it kill you to wait a minute and a half, Dad? I said I’ll be there in a minute! Katsudon, get your husband off the goddamn phone when he’s driving. Do you want to die?”

Yet again, there’s this feeling of not really knowing what’s happening by the time Yuri is out of sight. I’ll still pass without this stupid project, he said. That’s almost impossible, unless he has an A in the class. Which he shouldn’t, because he sleeps through it. His participation grade alone should have dropped him to a B unless he’s gotten A’s on every single assignment. There’s no way.

“I need a drink,” Jonathan mutters, and there are murmured agreements from Anthony and Thomas both. “You guys want to go to Shizuku?”

“I’m down.” Anthony says. “Hell, I’ll pay. My treat, after all of that bullshit.”

It’s not even ten minutes to their favorite restaurant by car, but they figure it’ll be easier to walk. There’s no point in driving three cars to get to one place, and none of them are keen on getting their cars out of the student lot right now, since it’s nearly rush hour.

It takes them about thirty minutes to get there, and it’s blessedly empty when they do. There are only a few occupied tables. Still, it seems louder than it usually does, Jonathan notices as they’re waiting to be seated. There’s one table in particular that seems to be making more noise than the rest of the restaurant combined. That makes sense, he thinks, eyeing the back of a silver-haired man’s head. There are a lot of them. At least six, it looks like.

“Posmotrite na kotenke, Beka! Eto tak milo! Posmotrite na svoikh malen'kikh lapakh i khvoste.” That voice… it sounds way too happy to be him, but given how the day has gone, Jonathan wouldn’t be surprised.

The silver haired guy moves slightly. It looks like he leaned his face on his hand. “Yurio, don’t be rude. You and your friend aren’t the only people at this table, you know. Richard and Estephania are here too, and they don’t speak Russian.”

“It’s fine,” the person on silver haired’s left says. She has long, dark hair that swishes when she shakes her head. “It’s funny to see Yuri so excited about something for once.”

Jonathan gets a partial view of someone with dark hair and a very serious face. It’s almost scary how quickly he realises that he’s being looked at, and he looks Jonathan dead in the eye. The man nods once, then looks away without acknowledging him further.

“Beka? What are you looking at?” A head of blond hair comes into view, and Jonathan finds himself looking directly into the eyes of Yuri Plisetsky.

I fucked up, Jonathan thinks immediately, watching the mirth drain out of Yuri’s eyes almost instantly, replaced with irritation.

“Johnny? What is it– Oh, shit.” Anthony hides behind a menu.

“If you’re stalking me, I swear to god I will shove my silverware up your respective asses,” Yuri says, looking dead serious. “I have more than enough stalkers.”

That’s cause enough for Jonathan to pause and wonder what he means, but then the strangest thing happens. Instead of looking even remotely alarmed, the way any normal person would, the three people with their backs facing toward Jonathan, Anthony, and Thomas all turn at a totally normal, unhurried pace. Two of them, the silver haired man and the Asian looking man next to him, are even smiling.

“Hello!” the silver haired man says, waving. “Are you Yurio’s friends? Here, come sit with us! We’ve never met any of his friends from school before.”

Who the hell says something like that after hearing him call us stalkers? Jonathan thinks, feeling out of his element and way too overwhelmed. There’s really nothing to do but accept, so the three of them walk to the table as a group.

“Ya dumal, chto u vas ne bylo druzey v Amerike,” the serious man says to Yuri quietly, probably trying not to be heard.

Yuri looks murderous. “Ya ne.”

There’s a split second war between Thomas, Jonathan, and Anthony as to who is going to sit next to the scary serious guy. Jonathan loses. It’s fine. He’ll take scary serious guy over angry Yuri Plisetsky any day.

“My name is Otabek. Yuri is my best friend,” scary serious guy says, holding out a hand.

Jonathan takes it hesitantly, but Otabek’s grip isn’t anything but polite. “Jonathan. That’s Thomas, and that’s Anthony. We take American History with Yuri.”

“My name is Victor, and this is my husband Yuuri! Not your Yuri, we call him Yurio,” the silver haired man says. The Japanese man next to him blushes, and Jonathan supposes that he’s the other Yuuri.

“I will shove my knife shoes so far up your ass, Nikiforov, that you won’t be able to sit for a year,” Yuri warns.

“Yurio is our son. We’re so glad Yuri is actually making friends at school, I was worried for a while. I’m sure you know how tricky he can be sometimes,” Victor continues, ignoring the incredibly violent threat as if it happens every day. What the hell did Yuri even mean by knife shoes, anyway?

“You shut the fuck up, old man!”

It doesn’t surprise Jonathan in the slightest that Yuri has two dads; it explains a lot about the whole incident with Veronica earlier this year. What he is surprised about is the fact that Yuri’s dads seem so… nice.

Jonathan isn’t sure if that’s pleasant or terrifying.

“Victor and Yuuri are my figure skating coaches,” Yuri mutters, sounding like he’d rather be doing anything but this.

“Wait, you’re a figure skater?” Thomas asks, looking intrigued; seriously, how that guy manages to be so laid back all the time is– wait, what?

“Is that what you keep missing meetings to practice?” Jonathan asks. Suddenly it all makes sense: the lean muscle, the crazy flexibility and precision it would require to nearly kick someone in the head, the whole random flight to Japan.

The entire table erupts into laughter, even the Hispanic woman and the other man that they haven’t been introduced to yet.

Yuri turns bright red, looking both flustered and annoyed. “Oh, fuck off, all of you. Especially you, Katsudon! You have no right to laugh after what happened with these two.” He points aggressively at the two people Jonathan and the others don’t know.

The Japanese man, Yuuri, is the first one to manage to stop laughing. “I’m sorry, Yura. I’m laughing because I know how you feel.” He turns to Jonathan, Thomas, and Anthony, still smiling brightly. “He actually medalled at the Olympics last year. He’s won gold for Russia several times, as well.”

Jonathan isn’t the only person at the table with his jaw dropped. The waitress comes by and sets waters in front of the three of them. Even when she leaves, he still can’t figure out what he’s supposed to say. He’s pretty sure that earlier today, he just told an Olympian medalist to cancel a trip to what was probably a competition at the last minute. He wants to die of embarrassment, even if he had good reason.

“He probably didn’t mention it because he’s too angry that he let that Canadian get gold and he only got bronze,” Victor teases. He slings an arm around his husband. “Still, my son and my husband on the podium at the same time! It’s any man’s dream. I’m so proud!”

There’s a scraping noise on the table. When Jonathan looks down, he sees that Otabek slid over a phone with the screen open to a news article about men’s figure skating and yep, there’s Yuuri. And that’s definitely Yuri, but he looks… different. Happy. Jonathan looks from Otabek to Yuri to the article, then back to Otabek. He knows he’s panicking, because there’s nothing he can really say to make himself feel less awkward but maybe someone calm like Otabek can help him out.

Otabek gives him a thumbs up.

Translations (let me know if I need to fix any, I don’t speak Russian)

yoroshiku onegaishimasu - Japanese - I look forward to working with you (yes, he’s being a sarcastic little shit here)

Vy prikhodite na obed segodnya? - Russian - roughly translates to “we’re still on for lunch today?”

Posmotrite na kotenke, Beka! Eto tak milo! Posmotrite na svoikh malen'kikh lapakh i khvoste. - Russian - Look at the kitten, Beka! It’s so cute! Look at its little paws and tail.

Ya dumal, chto u vas ne bylo druzey v Amerike - Russian - I thought you said you don’t have friends in America.

Ya ne. - Russian - I don’t.

#skygemspeaks #yuri on ice #yuri plisetsky #otabek altin #victor nikiforov #yuuri katsuki #retirement au #i wrote this instead of doing homework #im so fucked #worth it #look at me posting shit without editing it #again #cassie writes

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crispy-tasty-takoyaky-jikook · 7 years

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Mad Gab and Mafia

I DON’T OWN ANYTHING

Title: Mad Gab & Mafia (Prompt: Expectation) Fandom: BTS Pairing(s): Jimin/Jungkook, J-Hope/V Genre; AU: Fluff, teensy bit of Comedy; University AU Rating: PG Warnings: Cursing Word Count: ~11000 Summary: Friday nights are for party games. Jungkook meets Jimin, self-proclaimed reigning champion of 'Egg Roulette', and ends up winning more than just game points. A/N: Part of the '30 Day Fanfic Challenge'. Heavily inspired by the Just Kidding crew playing games on their YouTube channel. Also inspired by a prompt on this page. (If the formatting makes it difficult to read, please view this on AFF, AO3, or choose 'Reader View Available' on your mobile browser!) Cross-posted to AFF & AO3.

Every Friday night, Hoseok has a gathering with his friends in the apartment he shares with Jungkook. Every Friday night, without fail, Jungkook finds an excuse not to attend – I have a night class; I have to volunteer at the library; I really have to finish this essay before midnight – and thus, he has never met any of Hoseok’s friends or participated in the social group. Jungkook wouldn’t call himself a loner – he’s just selectively social, and believes that Hoseok can only be friends with those who enjoy drinking and late night parties – two things in which Jungkook has never found any interest. One, Jungkook’s alcohol tolerance was incredibly low, so he couldn’t last past a couple of short hours at any one party. Two, he much preferred the quiet company of another single soul and their thoughts. He doesn’t like loud noises, and he doesn’t like crowded rooms.

Tonight is another Friday night, and Jungkook didn’t even need to make an excuse to avoid coming home during another soirée. He was stuck at his campus library, busting out the last few words of that week’s essay before handing it off electronically to his professor. He was a good two or three hours behind schedule, and wouldn’t make it home before midnight. “All the better,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, unsticking a pen from between his teeth as he jots down the last few due dates in his diary. He closes his laptop once his e-mail pings with the sound of a sent message, and packs up, readying himself to go home. He bids the librarian a good night – the woman is incredibly relieved to see him go, as she was just itching to get home herself – and Jungkook finds it’s raining outside. Jungkook knows that he’s lucky. Hoseok was already out of college, paying his own bills and working five days out of the week at a bar nearby. That’s where Jungkook assumes Hoseok finds his friends, and why he never hangs out with the other. But despite how anti-social Hoseok always likes to think Jungkook is, he still lets the younger boy stay in his apartment until he can find a job to support himself on his own. His parents were out of the picture, have been for a long time now, and his aunt could no longer provide for him on her low income. Jungkook was left to board with someone until graduation (or, if he was even luckier, until he could find a job). Hoseok had left an opening in the local newspaper – he had just purchased his apartment, and though he could easily pay it off by himself, he was willing to let someone else board for their own benefit. Jungkook would be lying if he said he didn’t find the offer very creepy at first. A single man, perfectly capable of living by himself and responsible for the bills of an entire apartment, was just looking for someone to fill his apartment? For free? Very suspicious. But Jungkook still went out on a limb and applied for an interview, taking a good look at the apartment and trying to find spots where strange things could be concealed if his own life was in any danger. The truth of it was that Hoseok wanted to board a college student because he had received the same treatment when he was still a student himself. He had looked for a place to live after his parents thought he should start living his own life, and an elderly woman had kindly taken him into her home despite the high chances of Hoseok being able to take advantage of her. He had lived comfortably throughout college because of her (though he had to pay for his rent, of course) and wanted to repay the deed. Jungkook doesn’t think he’s met any person better than Hoseok. “Then why won’t you come hang out with me and my friends? Don’t you trust in my choice of friends?” Hoseok had whined once, when Jungkook was drunk enough to admit that he really looked up to the latter. But Jungkook hadn’t given him an answer – he’d fallen asleep, having not heard the question at all. Despite how lucky Jungkook is, and how much money he could have to himself, he still didn’t know how to spend for himself. He liked to buy luxurious foods on the off occasion, but he also had a gym membership to continuously pay for every month. So his appearance was often questionable (despite Hoseok’s charity and open wardrobe). Jungkook’s only means of rain protection wasn’t a sturdy umbrella-and-raincoat set. No. His idea of rain protection was a pair of flowery rubber boots hanging from his bag, and an oversized yellow raincoat, with its own drawing of a duck face on the hood. Jungkook stays undercover as he slips the raincoat on, not bothering to check his phone to see what time it was – Hoseok wouldn’t contact him unless there was an emergency, and the older boy knew better than to interrupt Jungkook’s studying time, no matter how late it got. Jungkook exchanges his sneakers for his flowery rubber boots, and he starts stomping off into the rain and wind. With no face protection, and nothing to keep his bag dry, Jungkook all but runs through the rain until he finds the path back to his home, where it was luckily covered up by retractable awnings left out by some businesses. A bad idea for a day like this, the awning poles rattling and creaking in the wind. Jungkook dodges them – he didn’t want a pole swinging free and smacking him in the face after all. Forgoing the elevators and hurrying up the apartment complex staircase – he’s heard too many horror stories of people being murdered in elevators late at night – Jungkook’s too busy with his keys to realise that there was the sound of laughter and loud voices on the other side of his apartment door. But it’s too late to turn around when he realises this, as Hoseok’s swinging the door open for him, having heard his keys. The older boy looks over at Jungkook with large eyes, before looking over his shoulder. “Oh shit, you’re really here. Wow, we must have lost track of time here…” Jungkook stares at the table in the middle of the apartment, filled to the brim with the bodies of five laughing boys (or were they men?). Beer bottles were zero, and cans of soda were many, sprawled across the table alongside some cards. They're still laughing as they eventually turn to check on the newcomer, and a couple of them look upon Jungkook with recognition. “Hey, is this your roommate?” One of the more burly boys (no, men, definitely men) asks, and waves a hand. “Hey! Come join us! This is the first time we’ve seen you, right? Nice to meet you! I’m Namjoon!” Jungkook’s still half-in, half-out of the apartment and Hoseok finally drags him inside, helping him out of his drenched raincoat. It might be cute, but it was useless against the rain, and Jungkook was ultimately wetter than his exposed bag was. His rain boots were abandoned by the shoe rack, and one of the boys by the table laughs joyfully. “That’s a really cute rain set you have going on there,” he grins. Hoseok snarls playfully, snapping his teeth. “Don’t make fun of him, Jimin. He’s just a kid – you can’t expect him to have a designer raincoat like you do, can you?” The older boy turns back to Jungkook, who was hesitating between sitting by the table and running into his room. “Do you want to join us? We were about to start playing ‘Mafia’, but I’m not in it anyway so you can stand and watch with me.” “‘Mafia’?” Jungkook echoes, and the one named Namjoon laughs. “Never heard of it? Man, it’s a lot of fun. Come, come! We don’t mind if you’re wet; just don’t drip all over us and it’ll be fine!” He laughs again, and turns back to the table. Jungkook notices a few cards have been tossed beneath everyone’s chairs, a few eyes still watching him and waiting for him to stand by them. The young boy sighs softly, and leaves his bag gently down amongst the mess of other bags by the door, shoes strewn everywhere. He wasn’t the only one with wet shoes evidently, but everyone else looked dry otherwise. He follows Hoseok over to the table and sticks to his side, the two standing in a gap between Namjoon and someone whose name Jungkook hadn’t learned yet. “So! The point of this game is that everyone has assigned roles, right? Usually you have two or three people who are part of the mafia, one person who’s a medic, and one person who’s a detective. But, since there are only five people here, we only have one mafia dude. The other two are civilians.” Hoseok waves vaguely at the group, all of whom were looking at Jungkook, then at each other. Probably wondering why Jungkook was looking everywhere but at them. “The aim of the game is to try to eliminate the mafia before he kills everyone, but of course, the mafia have a chance to defend themselves and convince everyone to convict someone else. It’s a bit hard to explain; just watch for now! Actually, if you want, you can join in…? Six people would make it a longer game.” Jungkook shakes his head a little too quickly, and the one named Jimin laughs. “Are you shy? Don’t be shy. It’s really not hard to play! Come, sit next to me, I’ll help you! Provided you’re not the mafia or anything, of course.” He pushes Namjoon into the empty seat and pats the now vacated chair beside him. Jungkook looks from Jimin to Hoseok, and back again, before reluctantly agreeing to sit down beside the former. Hoseok ends up sweeping the cards up from the ground and shuffling them in his hands. “Man, if only there was at least one more person, then I could actually play with you guys and it’d be an even harder game,” Hoseok grumbles, not noticing Jungkook’s visible discomfort with being sandwiched between two strangers. He starts handing out the cards face down into everyone's palms, grinning at Jungkook in particular. “Each card has the role written on it, so don’t show it to anyone and put on your best poker face. When you’re ready and understand your role, place it face down on the ground beneath your chair. Got it?” “I think so,” Jungkook mumbles, though he still didn’t feel ready to jump straight into a game like this. He also wasn’t very good at poker faces, so he just takes a quick peak at his card and sighs inaudibly to himself. Civilian. Good. That made things easy – all he had to do was sit there and accuse people. Hoseok clears his throat as soon as the last card is dropped to the ground, and rubs his hands together. “Everybody! Go to sleep,” he instructs, and Jungkook watches as everyone closes their eyes and drops their heads. He quickly does the same, now blind to the next few moments of the game. Hoseok paces around the circle – undoubtedly to deter and confuse everyone – and keeps on rubbing his hands. “It’s now night time. Mafia, please raise your head.” A momentary pause. “Okay, I have acknowledged you. Mafia, please choose the person you wish to kill in this round.” Another pause, and Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut, the heat rising in his cheeks. “Okay, thank you mafia, please go back to your… mafia headquarters.” Someone snorts, and Hoseok shushes him. “Medic, please raise your head. Now, please choose the person you would like to save.” Hoseok sucks in his breath when he’s standing right behind Jungkook, and Jungkook can feel his heart beating a little quicker now. “Thank you, medic, please return to the hospital. Now, detective, raise your head. Okay, I have acknowledged you. Please choose the person you would like to check, to see if they are the mafia.” Hoseok’s pacing again, and there’s a smile in his voice as he continues. “Okay, please return to the police station, detective. Alright! Everybody, wake up! Eyes open, heads up, wake up!” He claps his hands once as everyone does he says, and Jungkook finds the light’s unnatural to his eyes. He squints, rubs his eyes and remembers that his face was still a little wet from the rain. Jimin reaches across the table for the tissue box and drops it into the younger boy’s lap, Jungkook flushing under the attention as he mumbles his thanks. He presses a single tissue to his face, and Hoseok clears his throat. He only does so when he wants to start speaking – which means, he does it almost every time he’s in a conversation. Jungkook’s learned to tune it out. “It’s now daytime. Jungkook decides to take a walk down the street. Fresh air, good for his health, a bit of exercise never hurt anyone! However, while he was walking… there's the sound of tyres squealing, and suddenly a car comes out of nowhere and closer to Jungkook!” Jungkook widens his eyes at the story, looking around the table to see everyone mirroring his expression. He wonders who the mafia is, and why they chose to kill him so soon. “But luckily, he lives! There's a medic nearby who manages to push him out of the way!” Hoseok grins as everyone claps for fictional Jungkook, then drops his voice. “…but then, Namjoon is hit by that same car, and dies.” There’s a brief moment of shock, before all the boys fall into a loud laugh that almost shakes the entire apartment building. Namjoon’s sputtering and stuttering and outraged that he had died so early on, pointing fingers at almost everyone and accusing a particular boy of being the mafia. “You had a vengeance against me since our last game, I know it! You lied then too, and you were pissed when I killed you off, I’m sure of it! You’re totally the mafia, don’t deny it, Taehyung!” The boy named Taehyung is laughing too hard to respond, and Hoseok’s voice rises to end the unrest, before he instructs Namjoon to reveal his card. Namjoon’s hasty, and throws his card onto the table. “You’re all fucked because I died!” he shouts, as his card reveals that he was indeed the medic. Jungkook blinks, looking over at Namjoon – does that mean he chose to save Jungkook in the game? Hoseok clears his throat. “So! You all have three minutes to discuss it amongst yourselves who you think the mafia will be, then the accused will have sixty seconds of defence. Whoever is the detective may choose to reveal himself, or he may remain in hiding. Starting… now!” The rise of voices from around the table startles Jungkook, and everyone’s speaking at once, all over each other and trying to get their point across first. Hoseok watches on with amusement, eyes occasionally flickering to his young friend to see if Jungkook was understanding anything, and Jimin even yells at one point to finally get out what he was trying to say. It’s utter chaos and Jungkook can’t help but grin as he watches the mess of hands in front of him, spit flying from everyone’s mouths with how animated they were about the game. In the end, Taehyung’s placed on the chopping block and is left to defend himself. But he ends up laughing too hard to say anything that’s credible – Namjoon jumping down his throat every two seconds doesn’t help either – and in the end, he forfeits his card to reveal that he was, indeed, the mafia. Everyone laughs and screams and shouts and even Jungkook finds a place to join in eventually, though he doesn’t do anything when the others wrestle Taehyung out of his chair and onto the floor. “That was our quickest game yet,” Hoseok notes in amusement, cleaning up the cards as the others finally calm down, though he was speaking to Jungkook only. “They usually last a lot longer than that, but whenever Taehyung’s mafia – or any of the important roles – the games finish quickly because he can’t argue logically at all.” Hoseok nods his head at one of the other boys who was helping clear all the soda cans. “Yoongi’s really good at 'Mafia'. He has the perfect poker face for these games, but he’s still been caught out a few times. Jimin’s really good at reading people, so he makes a perfect detective. Even Yoongi’s not a match for Jimin the Detective.” “What did you think, kid?” Someone approaches Jungkook, face flushed with laughter, his lips etched into a permanent grin. “Oh, I’m Seokjin by the way. I was actually the detective, but hey, guess I didn’t really need to do much this time round, huh? I actually asked to check Yoongi, but that did me no good. Fun game, right? You should come play with us more often. You getting the civilian card was lucky for your first time. I can’t imagine you trying to be the mafia in the first round.” Seokjin’s still grinning, yet Jungkook doesn't really know how to respond. “Oh. Yeah! It was fun. I’ve never seen anyone play that before, or heard of it before today… do you guys do this every week?” “Yep, without missing even a single Friday. We love ‘Mafia’ a lot, but we also play a lot of ‘Mad Gab’ too. Or ‘Egg Roulette’! You should play ‘Egg Roulette’ with us – that game is seriously pure luck, it’s too good to miss. Well, Hoseok,” Seokjin turns to the accompanying male now, “gotta get going. Guess we stayed a bit late tonight, sorry about that. Usually we disappear before you get home, Jungkook.” The younger boy blinks. “Why?” Hoseok shifts in response. “Well, I know you don’t like crowded places, so I kick them out before you get home. They got lucky today. But… I mean, if it wasn’t horrible, then they can stay later from now on, right?” Jungkook blinks again, catching Jimin’s gaze from somewhere behind Seokjin. “Uh,” he starts, and then nods instead of saying anything else. Seokjin smiles more. “Great! We’ll be back next week! I’ll bring the eggs. My parents have a farm, so I have a fresh supply of eggs on most days. See you kids next Friday!” He pats both Jungkook and Hoseok on the shoulders before heading out the door, followed by a long trail of four other guys hot on his heels. They left the place clean and tidy, as if the apartment was never occupied by seven people all at once. Jungkook catches his bag before it topples over as Jimin wiggles his own bag out from underneath, and the older boy grins. “It was nice to meet you, Jungkook.” Jimin waves goodbye and the door’s soon shut. Jungkook looks around for a moment before rushing to the window, pulling the curtains back to look down beneath the tall complex. It takes a long while, but the five of them reappear again on the street, looking deep in a conversation as they head along one of the sidewalks, and disappear behind a few trees. Jungkook sinks into an armchair, and Hoseok joins him a moment later with a bottle of water in his hand. He smiles impishly. “They’re not that bad, are they?” he asks. Jungkook looks out the window again. “No. No, not bad at all.” It’s raining again the next Friday. This time, Jungkook doesn’t make an excuse to stay back on campus, and packs everything neatly into his bag after his last class finishes. A friend inquires if he was going to the library again, and if so, requests that Jungkook borrow a book for him. Jungkook hesitates. “Sorry, not tonight. I’m actually going home early. Got something to do, so… I can do it for you tomorrow?” “No worries, I can go do it myself! But wow, you have plans…? That’s new.” His friend chuckles, but Jungkook escapes him before any more questions could be asked. He pulls out his tatty umbrella and dons his raincoat again. A process of animorphism – Jungkook’s now half-human, half-yellow rubber duck. He steps out into the rain rather hesitantly – it wasn’t a very strong downpour, far from torrential, but he didn’t want to lower his umbrella just in case the skies decided to open up on him the very moment he did so. He dodges everyone on the sidewalk, ignoring the people who look at him strangely for his childish raincoat, and leaves campus grounds before he spots Hoseok. Five others, all laughing and talking loudly as they travel through the park opposite Hoseok’s apartment, surround the boy. Jungkook almost calls out for Hoseok, until he realises that he didn’t really want to catch their attention while wearing this get-up again. However, no effort was needed on his part as Jimin turns, for some strange reason, and manages to catch a glimpse of Jungkook. “Hey! Jungkook! Hey, guys, wait for Jungkook, he’s right behind us.” Jimin waves the younger boy over, heading away from the group himself as he waits beneath a tree. Jungkook joins him a moment later with his head slightly ducked, and Jimin grins at him. “Just finished classes, huh? Man, I almost miss college. I only just graduated last year. Wouldn’t want to relive it, but sometimes I do miss the college life. Being an unemployed adult isn’t all that fun, trust me. What are you studying?” Jungkook thinks that they should join the group again, but no one’s watching them, and Jimin isn’t moving. In fact, the older boy was leaning very comfortably against the tree trunk now, so Jungkook’s left with no choice but to talk to him. Not that he was outright complaining – Jimin was nice to look at, and had nice eyes. Nice lips too. Nice face, actually, and Jungkook takes a short moment to stare at him. “Computer engineering.” “Wow. You’re smart? Makes one of us.” Jimin chuckles. He pauses to say something again, but then the tree branch above Jungkook suddenly shakes and releases unrelenting raindrops onto him, the young boy flinching and crying out in surprise the moment they drench him once more. Jimin’s eyes are wide as he looks at a figure behind Jungkook, and he frowns. Though, Jungkook thinks, probably only playfully. “Don’t worry, Jungkook! I’ll avenge you!” Off he dashes into the rain as Namjoon runs away screaming, Jimin right on his tail and trying to throw dead leaves at his back. Hoseok sweeps Jungkook away a moment later with a chuckle, an arm over his shoulders and a hand taking his book bag from him. “Well, sorry about that. Namjoon’s a real prankster. Just be grateful it wasn’t Taehyung – that boy would have broken the whole branch and hit you in the face with it. You know like those giant hands on ‘Jackass’? Yeah, just like that. Pranksters, the lot of them. Come on, guys, let’s all get to my place before it rains even harder!” Seokjin lays two cartons of eggs down onto the table, and everyone groans. Sans Jungkook, because he still doesn’t know what ‘Egg Roulette’ was. That is, until Hoseok goes away to gather together old newspapers to lay on the floor, and that’s where Jungkook panics. “Is… are we going to be smashing eggs or something…?” he asks hesitantly, before Seokjin grins wickedly at him. “Yup. On our foreheads. On each other’s foreheads. Basically, there are twenty-four eggs, right? There are ten hard-boiled eggs, and fourteen raw eggs. We’ll split up into two teams, and whichever team ends up with four raw eggs smashed on them will lose. We’ll take it in turns so everybody gets to crack some sort of egg onto themselves. I get that raw eggs are messy and all, but if you mush a hard-boiled egg hard enough, that’ll be even messier.” He sticks his tongue out in distaste, and turns away toward the table. “Oh wait, guys!” Taehyung raises a hand, and everyone turns to look at him. “There are an odd number of us now! One team will have four people then! Dibs being on that team! The more people, the less chances I’m getting raw egg cracked on my head!” Someone grumbles something about it being unfair, and someone else actually volunteers to sit out. Jimin sidles up next to Jungkook and grins at the younger – Jungkook notices then that Jimin’s actually a bit shorter than him. “Wanna be on my team? I’m pretty lucky with these games – my teams have won five out of six games. The odds look good, don’t they? You might even avoid getting a raw egg if you play on my side.” “Tempting,” Jungkook answers honestly, seeing as he doesn’t think he needed raw eggs to make him any more awkward than he already was. He slides his raincoat off instead and looks down at himself. He’d been stuck in these clothes all day, and since he was already wet, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to get egg onto them. “Yeah, okay. I’ll play on your team.” Jimin smiles triumphantly. He’s wearing a sweater that looks rather expensive, and Jungkook narrows his eyes. “Is it okay if you get that dirty?” “What? This?” Jimin tugs at the sweater, the section covering his chest, and pulls at it until his collarbones are revealed. “Not a problem! I’ve got tons of these cheap sweaters in my closet. This is my ‘Egg Roulette’ sweater, actually. Looks like it’s made of money, right? I actually got it for like five bucks – best deal of my life, I swear.” Jungkook had looked away a few moments beforehand, and nods a little absently, taking a seat at the table and watching Seokjin help set up the newspapers. Before too much time was wasted, the two teams were divided – Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin on one team, the others on the opposing team. Taehyung had lost his dibs for the bigger group, but was too close to Jimin to not be on his team anyway. The other team, as Namjoon puts it, was “lumped together unwillingly.” First up is Jungkook and Namjoon, sitting opposite each other on two chairs set up in the middle of the newspaper pile. Both teams help their players choose an egg – Jungkook chooses number four, and Namjoon chooses number eighteen – and lean back to watch in anticipation. Jungkook breathes in and out quietly as he eyes the egg in Namjoon’s hand. He starts to feel the egg in his own hand, and quickly looks at Jimin from behind him. Jimin smiles at him knowingly. Jungkook blanches. This is a raw egg in his hand. “One…” Hoseok starts, raising a hand, “two… three!” Namjoon immediately shoves an egg against Jungkook’s forehead, which catches the younger boy off-guard – luckily, it’s boiled, and it only cracks open. Namjoon’s grin fades away as Jungkook retaliates by cracking his raw egg right into Namjoon’s hair, and egg starts to drip down his face. The other boys grow absolutely wild, whooping and cheering in disbelief that Jungkook had already found the very first raw egg. Jimin jumps up onto his seat, pointing a finger at Namjoon. “Boom! Revenge! How do you like the taste of your own medicine, huh?” Jungkook flinches, worried that Jimin was taking it a little too far. Until he hears Namjoon laughing, shaking his head in disbelief as well as he slowly gets up from his own chair and changing with Yoongi. “Good one, kid. Guess you have a lucky hand in these games too, huh? Very first egg and it’s a raw one, damn… gotta watch out for you in the future!” It’s Yoongi and Taehyung next, and both find boiled eggs. Jimin and Hoseok yield the same results. Jungkook’s placed against Seokjin, and Seokjin finds a raw egg while Jungkook finds a boiled one. There’s a cry of disappointment from Jungkook’s side as the boy’s face is covered with egg white, the yolk still sitting haphazardly on top of his head until Jimin nudges him forward, the yolk splashing down and breaking on the newspaper. Both teams have met with one raw egg each. A few more minutes into the game has Jimin smashing a raw egg onto Yoongi’s forehead – the first time a raw egg has actually been cracked on the correct body part, and laughs manically as he shows off his team’s current winning number of points. However, this is negated when Hoseok apologetically smashes a raw egg onto Jungkook’s forehead right after, ending the two teams in a tie once more. Four raw eggs have already been uncovered, and the next comes from Taehyung, who unintentionally smashes it into Hoseok’s hair and spends a couple of minutes laughing over his apologies afterwards. Jungkook starts to think that there’s something going on between the two of them – not really because of any particular words, but because there was an indescribable electricity between them that Jungkook was too embarrassed to ask about. Later on, Hoseok gets his revenge by finding a raw egg for Taehyung. Following suit, Jungkook and Seokjin meet raw eggs again about five turns later, both smashing yolk all over each other in a fit of laughter (and partly revenge on Jungkook’s part). However, as Jimin’s team had acquired four smashed raw eggs already, their team are declared the losers while the four boys celebrate by smashing raw eggs over the losing team. Jungkook laughs and shouts his way from the chaos as Jimin’s left to take the brunt of the abuse, covered from head to toe in raw egg as he holds a hand out desperately for Jungkook to take, laughing too hard to actually stand up straight and push the others away. Jungkook takes his slippery hand and help him up, though the boys had run out of eggs by then. “Boom! Revenge!” Namjoon yells mockingly, jumping onto a chair and pointing a finger at Jimin. “You’re losing your winning streak, hey, champion? Better luck next time, yeah?” The boy jumps off, making more loud noises, before complaining to Hoseok that he needed to use Hoseok’s shower to clean himself up. Not surprising at all to Jungkook, the others had brought fresh clothes to change into after the game. Everyone showers and changes one by one, no matter the degree of raw egg they had gotten onto them, and Jungkook volunteers to be the last since he was in no hurry to clean himself up. After all, they were the guests, and he was more than willing to be a good host. Jimin stays back with him to clean up the main dining area, scrunching up the newspapers and tossing them into the rubbish bin before rearranging the tables and chairs. They were careful not to touch anything with their egg-covered selves, and Jungkook laughs to himself spontaneously. He catches himself though when Jimin laughs too, the older boy looking at him curiously. “Why did you suddenly laugh?” “Um. I don’t really know… really…” Jungkook hesitates, scratching at his cheek. The egg white had dried on his face, and it made him feel slightly uncomfortable. “I guess I haven’t had this much fun in a long time. I don’t really do this with any of my friends – we’re all disinterested in this sort of stuff, I guess…” “‘This sort of stuff’? What? Having fun?” Jimin responds sarcastically, but laughs it off. “No, I get it. Party games can get pretty wild. Wait until we play ‘Mad Gab’ next week – so far, no one’s been able to beat Namjoon, so everybody wants him on their team. He’s actually been on the winning team of every ‘Mad Gab’ game we’ve ever played, and yet I’m still irresponsible enough to play on the opposing team. I just… wanna beat him one day. God. The look on his face would be priceless.” Jimin stares off into some unknown future sight, and Jungkook smiles. “Maybe you will beat him next week, who knows. I’m looking forward to it. You guys come up with really fun games.” “Oh, they’re not our ideas. They’re all over the web. It’s just that we play these ones often because we never get tired of them. We tried a thing called ‘The Fifty-Fifty Challenge’; you can find it on the web. But sometimes it gets really, really not-safe-for-work, and some of it’s just really dumb. We stopped and picked up ‘Egg Roulette’, which seems like a waste of egg products. But we don’t really care about that. We should. But we don’t.” “Hey, Jimin, your turn!” Hoseok calls out, stepping out from the bathroom, shirtless and with dripping wet hair. Jungkook’s very used to seeing Hoseok without clothes on – being roommates had its customs, and so Jungkook doesn’t notice the look of amusement on Jimin’s face. Hoseok pauses at the same look however, narrowing his eyes. “What…?” “Isn’t this the first time I’ve seen you shirtless? You don’t even go shirtless on our beach trips; that’s pretty amazing. Jungkook, do you get to see this sight often? Does he have any weird birthmarks I can use to my advantage? Maybe something he wouldn’t want Taehyung to know about?” That about confirmed Jungkook’s suspicions, and Hoseok just rolls his eyes. “You think the guy I’ve been dating for two months won’t have seen any birthmarks I have?” “Okay. Too much information.” Jimin marches off to the bathroom with an exaggerated shudder, and Jungkook stares at Hoseok with wide eyes. Hoseok pauses again, then laughs. “Oh. Shit, yeah, I never told you, hah. Yeah, I’m dating Taehyung. That doesn’t weird you out or anything, does it…? We’re not very PDA-ish so I mean, you won’t see none of that around us or anything.” Jungkook shakes his head. “No weirdness. You two are really cute together.” Hoseok heads over to the younger, loosening the hold on his towel as he stops drying his hair momentarily. “Hey, you know… we actually don’t get to talk much. Not until recently, at least. Anyone you got your eye on? I guess I don’t see you playing with friends or anything, so I dunno if you’re dating anyone. Got a girlfriend?” “No. No girlfriend.” Hoseok nods thoughtfully. “No girls have caught your eye, huh? That’s cool, that’s cool. These things totally take time. You’re probably really busy with your studies anyway, so it’s probably a better idea to just take it easy with yourself.” “That’s not quite what I me—” “Let me dry your hair for you!” Taehyung shouts from the living room, climbing over one of the couches he had been sinking into and heading right over to Hoseok’s side, whipping his towel away and gently massaging it into Hoseok’s head. Jungkook watches them for a quick moment, before excusing himself to get some clothes from his room. Taehyung looks over his shoulder then, and leans in to whisper into Hoseok’s ear. “Hey. Does your Jungkook like our Jimin?” “Huh?” Hoseok exclaims in surprise, turning to the side and stopping Taehyung’s hands. He raises his eyebrows. “What makes you say that…? I think he likes girls. I was just talking to him about all that.” “Are you sure…? It looks like Jimin and him are really into each other. Not like… in a dirty way. But, in a really cute way.” “I wasn’t exactly thinking of the dirty way, but thanks for planting that in my mind now. Perfect mental image,” Hoseok mutters, rolling his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t hear any of this. He’s too busy plucking clothes out of his closet, and clean underwear out of his drawer, and trying his best not to dirty anything more with raw egg. He’s pretty sure one of the boys managed to mash up a boiled egg into his hair, but hopefully little bits and pieces weren’t just falling off his head and onto the floor. He makes his way to the bathroom only when he can hear the door opening, but still runs into Jimin despite his attempt to time his entrance. Jimin’s shirtless too, with sweatpants on and a towel flat on his head. He backs off just in time to avoid colliding right into Jungkook, and his eyes dart down to the items in the younger boy’s hands. Jungkook quickly hides his hands behind his back, a flush covering his cheeks. Great. Jimin had just been witness to some of his dorkiest underwear ever. He literally feels five. And Jimin really doesn’t help by laughing in amusement, sidestepping him and letting him rush into the bathroom without any more words. Jungkook genuinely thinks about hiding in the bathroom until the others leave, but decides it wasn’t worth becoming half-human half-prune in order to do so. He hesitantly vacates the bathroom after a few minutes of stalling, and was surprised to find only Hoseok and Taehyung left on the couch. Truthfully, he’s a little disappointed that Jimin had left without being able to say anything – but he had stalled, so what was he expecting? He tries to act casual as he moves to sit on a free armchair, Taehyung and Hoseok sitting side-by-side but not touching each other. In fact, there’s enough of a gap for Jungkook to squeeze himself in-between them. Is this what Hoseok meant by them two not being very PDA-ish? “Nice shower?” Taehyung asks with a grin, a little too casually to be entirely innocent. Jungkook blinks, nodding once or twice before turning to look at the television. “Jimin’s actually passed out on Hoseok’s bed. He was too tired to drive home, and none of the boys can drive stick shift. They all went home, but Jimin and I are gonna be staying over. You don’t have a problem with that, right…?” Jungkook pauses. “Huh?” Hoseok smiles – he seems oblivious. “We’ll be taking your bed. Sorry, but I don’t want to move Jimin or anything – dude works hard during the day, so he needs his rest. Today was particularly difficult. You can go join him; he doesn’t mind sleeping with people. Probably would give him something to cuddle. Or you can sleep here, your choice!” Jungkook still hasn't fully grasped the situation yet, but is distracted by something else Hoseok had said. “Wait… Jimin told me he’s unemployed.” “He is,” Taehyung chimes in, smiling fondly now. “He volunteers at the shelter, and also at the counsellors next to it. So he’s either doing administrative work, or he’s feeding the homeless. He’s mostly cleaning. He’s trying to rack up some experience before he goes out to find a job. He lives with his parents, and they’re rich, so there’s really no rush. He does it six days out of the week though. Sundays are his only day off, and he usually just sleeps them away. We actually don’t get to see him as much as we get to see each other, so it’s a sacrifice on his part to come to our Friday night gatherings.” “Huh,” Jungkook comments simply, staring at the television again. That wasn’t fair. Not at all. Jimin couldn’t be good-looking and good-hearted. There had to be a flaw. Maybe he only cared about work and didn’t know how to maintain friendships? No, that couldn’t be it – it had been proven that he was selfless enough to maintain his friendships. Maybe he had crippling emotional issues? Well, that would make the two of them after all, and maybe it would be a good trait they shared in common in the end. Jungkook sighs to himself, but it goes unnoticed. Taehyung and Hoseok get up eventually, bidding their goodnights and leaving Jungkook to his own devices on the couch. All by himself. All alone. Jungkook buries his face against his knees for a while and turns the television off, deciding that he shouldn’t be disturbing anyone even if he was still awake. It wouldn’t hurt, right? To go and sleep in the same bed? Not like he was going to make any advances on Jimin anyway. It was just innocent sleep. Just sleep. Jungkook pads across the living room and toward Hoseok’s bedroom door, almost opening it until it’s opened from the other side. The boy pauses in surprise, staring at Jimin with wide eyes. Oh god. Now he seemed creepy, seemed like he was gonna sneak up on Jimin in the bedroom. “Um, you’re awake?” Jimin smiles easily. “Oh, yeah. Was just napping, really. I wanted to come out and ask where Hoseok was gonna sleep, but I guess him and Taehyung have taken your room? Sorry, didn’t mean to get you kicked out or anything. Here, I’ll go and sleep on the couch and you can take Hoseok’s bed. I knock out real easily whenever I’m sleepy, so it doesn’t matter where that is.” Jungkook starts. “Oh, no. It’s okay. I’ll get in trouble if they find you sleeping on the couch—” “I’ll be gone before they wake up.” Jimin grins, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and pulling him into the bedroom, before sliding to the side and slipping out the door. “Get some sleep! I only have a couple more hours of sleep before I gotta get home anyway. Oh hey. Do me a favour though? I left my number on the bedside table, so… give me a call sometime this week. Let’s go do something. I need a day away from my hectic lifestyle anyway.” Jimin speaks so easily, and doesn’t seem to be embarrassed at all about what he had just said. Didn’t he technically just ask Jungkook out on a date? Gave him his number? Jungkook swallows thickly and nods, Jimin grinning back at him in response and closing the door as he heads into the living room. Jungkook stares at the door for a little while longer. Maybe he should have said something instead of being silent. But well, it was too late now to go back. And so he sinks into Hoseok’s bed, reading over the tiny sliver of paper that was now crumpled in his hand.

It’s Thursday when Jungkook finally plucks up the courage to call Jimin. Good-looking, good-hearted Jimin. It really wasn’t fair at all – if he takes all the good traits, what was the rest of them left with? Not that Jungkook thought himself ugly – he liked his eyes, at least. They were bright. In fact, he had always been told that his face was a bright face, an all-knowing face. But he wasn’t nearly as observant as his face suggested, so he was often stuck with a face that exceeded expectations, and a bland personality that failed them. And this is precisely why it took him so long to call Jimin. He was mildly concerned that Jimin would find himself talking to a brick wall if he was left alone with Jungkook, but the latter was more than pleased that Jungkook had finally contacted him. They agreed to a time (“how about at five?”) and a place (“I think you’ll really like the juice bar near here”) and Jungkook hung up first. Jimin looked exhausted. That’s the first thing that Jungkook had noticed when he found the juice bar. It was an outdoors juice bar – literally just a huge umbrella covering the main staff in their little circle, and some stools set on the outside. Jimin was sitting in one, but his shoulders were a little sagged, and his eyes seemed unfocused. Though that all went away when Jungkook tapped him on the shoulder, and it was like his face shifted entirely. “Hey! Wow, you’re pretty prompt, huh?” “And you’re early,” Jungkook retaliated, slipping into the stool next to the boy, swivelling until his knees were tucked beneath the countertop. “Are you usually early?” “Nah. I’m actually the person that’s late for everything. But I volunteer near here so it wasn’t going to take me that long to get here. Did anybody tell you about what it is I do with my time?” Jungkook nods. “Taehyung filled me in. It’s really admirable of you… to be doing all that volunteer work. I mean, I’m sure you’d much rather be earning money or something.” Jimin shrugs. “Money isn’t very important to me. Obviously it’s important – I gotta live. But it’s not some sort of dire need. My ideal life is a comfortable one, where I make just enough to survive and pay my rent, and if I’m lucky enough, then I’ll have some leftover for a few indulgences.” “Easy for you to say.” Jungkook stares down at the counter, and Jimin turns to look at him in surprise. “I mean… Taehyung said your family’s pretty well off. It’s easy for someone who’s lived life like that to say something like that… they don't know what it’s like to be without money.” Jungkook stops talking almost immediately, and turns to look at Jimin with wide eyes. “I’m sorry. That… that was rude of me to say… I mean, I don’t know you, I don’t know what you’ve been through, I’m sure you’ve struggled too… sorry, that was dumb of me to talk like that…” “It’s cool.” Jimin laughs, leaning his cheek into a hand. “I guess you’re right. It’s kind of a privileged thing to say, huh…? People who don’t have it want it, so I should be grateful I have it.” He falls quiet for a quick moment, and the staff members bring over complementary glasses of water. “What’s your family like, Jungkook?” Jungkook purses his lips. “I used to live with my aunt. My parents passed away, ages ago. Years ago, really long ago. I don’t remember them at all. Some sort of accident. And my aunt raised me, but she’s living on a single income and minimal wages. So I couldn’t continue living with her. I guess that’s the extent of my family.” In the back of his mind, Jungkook almost expects Jimin to wince after his story. It’s the reaction he draws from a lot of people. Surprise, then sympathy. He didn’t mind it – if people wanted to pity him, then who was he to deny them that? It wasn’t demeaning, at least it didn’t feel it for him. It was rather nice that they cared enough to react like that. Except Jimin isn’t reacting like this. He’s just staring at him. Staring at his face, more specifically. As if he was waiting for the mental breakdown to come, but it wouldn’t. Jungkook’s long accepted the way his life has coursed so far, and it was fine. His aunt had done her best, and he had actually lived a very comfortable life thus far. The only issue was that he hadn’t managed to snag any scholarships, so he was paying off his college fees completely with no help. That was when things really needed to change. “Your aunt’s done a good job. You’re a good kid, so I’m sure she’s grateful her nephew didn’t give her any troubles. You grew up well, huh?” Jimin runs a hand through Jungkook’s hair – oddly intimate, for Jungkook at least – and pulls away to finally order something. Jungkook hesitates, wondering if he had made things awkward, and responds in a panic. “So! Um… can you please explain to me how ‘Mad Gab’ works…? I want to be prepared as possible for tomorrow so I can help you beat Namjoon.” Jimin’s lips quirks up at a corner. “Sure! Wait, hold on, I need a piece of paper. No, wait, my phone will do.” The boy pulls his phone out and opens a writing application, placing it on the counter. “It’s a puzzle game, but it’s just a brain test in my opinion. Which is why Namjoon’s so good at it – he’s really smart, and he’s great at languages and linguistics. So basically, there are these cards with a nonsensical phrase on them which, when spoken aloud, sound like a more common, more sensible phrase. For example…” Jimin reaches for his phone and types something, before giving it to Jungkook. “Read it aloud, and see if you can turn it into a sensible phrase.” Jungkook squints at the screen. “…‘eye mull of mush sheen’…? That makes no sense at all!” Jimin grins. “Read it aloud a few times. It’ll come to you. Here, I’ll give you a tip – try and blend together the words and don’t emphasise them separately.” Jungkook frowns and tries again. “…eyemullofmushsheen. Eye mull of mush sheen? Wait… machine? Is there a machine?” “You bet.” “Eye mull of machine…? What is eye mull?!” Jimin laughs then and takes his phone back, putting it back onto the counter. “It’s ‘I’m a love machine’. Try it again and you’ll realise how similar they sound.” Jungkook does as he’s told, and flushes as he realises that they really do sound similar. He looks at Jimin’s phone, trying to read the words again, and just shakes his head. “Oh man… that’s not easy.” “Some of them are really hard. I’ve had one that goes… ‘ace hick sound spot hull luck oak’. Any guesses?” Jimin emphases every word separately, and Jungkook draws a blank. “…not a one.” “‘A six ounce bottle of coke’. Yeah. Unbelievable, right? How is anyone supposed to get that?” Jimin laughs to himself, a sad shake of his head. “Prepare yourself as best as you can for tomorrow… and by that, I mean, good luck to your brain. Unless you’re a better linguist than Namjoon, I don’t think we’ll be beating his winning streak anytime soon.” But Jungkook’s not one to be deterred. And though he wished they would play ‘Mafia’ again sometime soon, he was looking forward to seeing how the group dynamic would shift for ‘Mad Gab’. As Jimin had explained to him just yesterday, they were all split into two groups – though with an odd number, one person had to sit out for the round. They decided that Yoongi would be the sacrifice. He wasn’t the best with words, and often took too long to actually make any guesses. He was more than just grateful, and happily held up the cards for each group to guess. Jungkook was teamed up with Jimin and Seokjin, while Taehyung, Hoseok and Namjoon were on the opposing team. Seokjin grumbled to himself, something about failing right then and there, and Jungkook grimaces. While the younger boy didn’t actually find anything to practice with, neither did he find a way to improve his linguistics skills or exercise his brain, he was still determined to give Jimin at least one win for ‘Mad Gab’. Yoongi sat at the head of the table, while the group split apart onto either sides and faced each other. Namjoon and Jimin spent a short while poking and prodding each other under the table, until Yoongi called to a silence and started to explain the rules. Jungkook listened carefully – their teams had two minutes to sound out as many phrases as they could, and make a sensible phrase. By the end of the two minutes, any unsolved or passed puzzles meant a point for the opposing team. They could only play three rounds, and then if there was a tie, there would be a sudden death round. Being under the tight constraints of time would undoubtedly put more pressure on the two teams. Namjoon’s team was first, and Jungkook swallowed nervously. He was going to see, first and foremost, how smart Namjoon truly was. Yoongi held up a single card that read: ‘Pea cub who icy hue’. There were sounds of agitation from almost every single contestant, as the opposing team could not say a single thing even if they knew the answers. But Namjoon nabbed it in less than three seconds – “peek-a-boo, I see you!” he shouted from across the table, and they were awarded a point. Jungkook withered. ‘You knee copper two needy’ was the next phrase, and Jungkook stared at it in frustration. What was a ‘two needy’? He had heard of ‘too needy’, but not a ‘two needy’. Only then did he realise that he was thinking the wrong way – this wasn’t a sensible game anyway, and it didn’t require the parts of his brain where it made sense of words. This was aphrase, a sound. He needed to use the phrase as a whole, and hear a sound that actually made sense. But still. ‘Copper two needy’? ‘You knee’? None of this was making sense in his brain, but Jimin had tensed beside him. The boy knew the answer, and the other team was not yet answering. Jungkook flickered his eyes across the table and saw Namjoon was deep in thought, before he startled everyone by shouting once more. “Unique opportunity!” Jimin tightened his jaw, and Jungkook was surprised by how intensely everyone was taking these games. And this was probably why so many of his peers avoided party games – you never knew what kind of tensions would rise. Namjoon’s team nabbed a total of nine points in the very first round. Nine. In just one round. Jungkook held his head in his hands and Jimin patted him on the back. Seokjin was already sulking by the time it was their team’s turn, and Yoongi turned the timer on again. ‘Hit stoop add’. “It’s stupid?” Seokjin blurted out in confusion, which caused a ripple of laughter through the group. For a moment, the tension had dispersed, and reminded Jungkook that this really was just a game. By the end, everyone would still be friends despite how competitive they were acting toward each other at the present moment. “It’s too bad!” Jungkook cries out next when the gears start shifting in his brain, and Jimin turns to look at him in surprise when Yoongi says he was correct. Though the staring doesn’t last long as the next card is handed out, and Jimin leans forward, feeling more fired up than he was before. ‘Us candles of hair’. “A scandalous affair!” Jimin shouts next after a few seconds of thinking, and Namjoon’s the only one on the other team clapping. He’s probably the only one encouraging Jimin’s competitiveness, but it was more than that. Jungkook understands that Namjoon’s fostering a healthy competition between Jimin and himself, and it was all in the name of fun. Though, it still didn’t stop Jungkook from worrying about Jimin’s rising blood pressure anyway. ‘Lair fink gout lout’. Seokjin gets a phrase this time. “Laughing out loud!” he screams, almost tearing his throat apart with the intensity of his screaming, and the other team laugh so hard that Hoseok almost falls off his seat. “If we had a camera to film your face just then, I would have died happy!” he chortles when he regains his balance, but any and all conversation is abruptly cut off as the round progressed. It ends rather quickly. They’re slower than Namjoon’s team, and only snag a total of five points by the end. The last puzzle really trumps them and they spend too long thinking about it before Jungkook finally sneaks the answer in within the final few seconds, saving them from sending a free point to their opposing team. ‘Aisle me chew have weigh’ is the phrase that starts off the next round for Namjoon’s team, and how in the world he managed to guess ‘I’ll meet you halfway’ from that phrase was nothing short of a miracle. Jungkook stares at Namjoon for most of the game, slack-jawed and amazed at how quickly Namjoon’s brain was able to process these strange sounds. By the end of round two, Namjoon’s team were on nineteen points. There seemed to be no hope, and Seokjin was plunging back into despair again. Jungkook grits his teeth together. Yoongi shares a brief look with him, wishing him luck before he pulled out the first card. ‘Census solved hey stands mail’. Jungkook’s team falls quiet. He almost starts panicking as no one says anything, everyone silently freaking out by the difficulty (and sheer absurdity) of the sentence. Finally, Jungkook blurts out what had first come to his mind. “Senses of taste and smell?” Yoongi almost misses it because Jungkook speaks so softly, and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead when he announces that Jungkook had got it right. This time, almost everyone was staring at Jungkook in surprise before the next card was pulled up. Their team had pulled through to get fifteen points, and accidentally rewarded the opposing team one point with their final card, leaving Namjoon’s team five whole points ahead. “Okay, not hard… not as wide a gap as it usually is. Wow, you’re really good at this,” Jimin mutters, turning to look at Jungkook in never-ending surprise. Yoongi puts the cards down for a quick moment. “Final round. If Namjoon’s team get too many correct, it might be too much of an overwhelming win for Jimin’s team to win, so, both teams need to work hard, alright? Good luck to you all.” The way he says it is so serious, as if this were a ‘Mad Gab’ tournament in front of a huge audience. In actuality, they were all just sitting together in Hoseok’s and Jungkook’s dining room, cramped around the table and playing along with the competitiveness thriving between them all. Even Taehyung was starting to take it seriously, and he rarely took any of the games seriously. ‘Sly such hair reach ease cake’ turned into ‘slice of cherry cheesecake’ for Namjoon’s team, but ‘ease hut jake hood answer’ gave Jungkook’s team a free point. Jungkook had actually managed to guess that it was ‘he’s such a good dancer’ at the end of Namjoon’s round. ‘Mad Gab’ was coming to a final close as Jungkook’s team was the last to do the guessing. Yoongi held up each and every card carefully, almost willing for them to win over Namjoon’s team, while the opposing team watched on carefully with every thought of sabotage. Taehyung thought about throwing a small wad of tissue directly into Jungkook’s mouth, because the boy was too good and was about to throw Namjoon off his winning streak. Jimin guesses ‘hits ache rates low gun’ as ‘it’s a great slogan’, while Seokjin snags a point for the team with ‘letter noah lover’. It was fairly easy – ‘let her know I love her’ – but it was still a fair point, as Namjoon struggled to come to terms with his eventual loss. Jungkook manages to decipher ‘dewy half aid eel’ and ‘sick sighed czar onus know full ache’, and while one was easy – ‘do we have a deal?’ – the latter was incredibly absurd. Yoongi almost gave Seokjin the point for ‘six-sided snowflake’, but Jungkook had completed the full puzzle with ‘six sides are on a snowflake’. By the end of the game, the two teams were tied on twenty-six points each. They were plunged into a sudden death round, and it was up to each individual mind to save their team from loss. They all stood up, too engrossed to stay seated for any longer, and Yoongi drew the last card. ‘Heath rue hassock harp hunch adam’. Both teams were immediately rowdy, all shouting suggestions. “Sock punch?” “He threw a sock at him!” And only then did Jungkook pipe up, eyes blowing wide with realisation. “He threw a sucker punch at him!” The opposing team went silent with disbelief as Jimin and Seokjin celebrated their first ever win over Namjoon, arms wrapping around Jungkook and the three of them jumping up and down in excitement. Taehyung cried out in frustration, but it was Namjoon who looked on with amusement. While he was still in shock, and couldn’t quite process how the newbie had managed to beat him at a game he had perfected his winning streak on for weeks on end… he was still ready to concede defeat. It seemed that Jimin’s determination and Jungkook’s dedication snagged them a fair win in the end. There was nothing to contest. “The king of ‘Egg Roulette’ and the newly-appointed king of ‘Mad Gab’. They’re definitely the power couple of party games now. God, it’s gonna be so much more exciting with an extra brain on hand.” Hoseok grins, arm wrapped around Taehyung’s shoulder and a proud grin on his face. Jungkook couldn’t help but flush with pride. Not only has he found himself amongst some of the greatest people he ever had the pleasure of knowing, but he had been able to show his potential. It wasn’t as if these games were part of a professional tournament, but there was something really satisfying in helping Jimin snag his first ever win over Namjoon in ‘Mad Gab’. Nobody was in a real hurry to rush off after such an exciting game, and Hoseok put on a movie for everyone to enjoy wherever they wished. Seokjin stole an entire plate of watermelon and laid on the floor in front of the television, so ultimately, the kids who wanted watermelon had to follow him. Jungkook hung back on the table, bathed only in the light of the kitchen, and Jimin opted to stay with him. He sat down in the opposite chair, leaving a mug of tea in front of Jungkook and donning a small grin. “You know what, I think you’re the new lucky charm. Well, besides that last game of ‘Egg Roulette’, you’ve really done this group a huge service. Just… how though? I only told you about ‘Mad Gab’ yesterday. How are you so good at that game for a first-timer…?” Jungkook shrugs shyly, tapping a hand against his mug. “I wanted to help you win,” he responded honestly, though said no more. Jimin paused, looking at the younger boy in mild surprise. “I sort of already knew that, but it feels good hearing it from you. You think that was it? Just you wanting to help me win?” “Yeah.” Jungkook shrugs again, looking into his tea. “I know that it’s just a game, but… I could tell it was something you wanted. And I wanted to help you because you wanted it really badly. I guess you can say that was what helped us win the game, or something like that…” Jimin smiles to himself, and folds his arms on the table, leaning in. “In that case, I have something else I want. Can you help me get that too?” Jungkook looks up suddenly, raising his eyebrows. “Another game?” “No, not a game. No. The thing that I want is… a date with you. Can you help me with that?” “What?” The latter blinks, leaning back against his seat with a sense of reservation. “Why? Why would you want that?” “Because I’m really starting to like you, and I want to get to know you more. Not too hard to say that out loud, it turns out. I thought I’d be more embarrassed, but actually, I don’t get embarrassed too easily. If I want something, I definitely work hard to get it. But this time, I really do need your help. More than I needed it for ‘Mad Gab’. Jungkook flushes at the top of his cheeks, and his ears start warming up. The blood slowly creeps across the entire expanse of his face, and makes his neck feel hot. “I… yeah. Sure. That’s okay. We can… go on a date.” “Great! I’ll call you Sunday? That’s my only day off, and I wanna give you a whole day instead of just a couple of hours at a dingy restaurant. We can do something really fun… I’ll think of a few ideas, and we’ll see what you feel like doing that day, hey?” “Don’t you want to sleep?” Jungkook asks worriedly, biting on the inside of his bottom lip. “You must be tired after a whole week of work like that… don't you want a full day of just sleep? Jimin shakes his head. “How does that one song go… ‘I’m always tired but never of you’? Something like that. I’malways tired, but if I just sleep whenever I’m tired, I’d have no friends. I wouldn’t have met you, for instance. Besides, I sleep enough every night. It’s just that I work hard during the day so all I want to do afterwards is sleep, not that I need it. So, it’s settled. We’ll go out on Sunday and do something fun, and hopefully after that… I can use your help for a second date, hey?” Jungkook smiles, his cheeks bunching up. “Not to intentionally change the subject or anything, but have you guys ever played the game ‘Drunk, Stoned or Stupid’?” “Oh fuck. That game.” Jimin leans back with a slow, loud sigh, and nods his head. “We tried it once. I actually paid for the cards and everything. But you know what ended up happening? Seokjin thought it would be funny to spill one of Namjoon’s secrets just to win the game and they didn’t talk for a week. It would normally be okay because we’re pretty close so we know eighty-five per cent of everything about each other. But that fifteen per cent is actually really important, and is that one part of us we need to keep secret. Seokjin kind of forgot… talked about it, and they almost broke off their friendship. It’s kind of why they’re still sort of awkward now. It’s not the same between them anymore, which is a shame, because I know they could have been more than friends if it hadn’t been messed up between them. Not that any of us really blame Seokjin. We all do some pretty stupid stuff after all, especially when we're competitive.” Jungkook pauses. He wasn’t at all expecting that answer. “Oh… I can see why you guys would stick to non-intrusive games then.” “Namjoon also always kills Seokjin first in ‘Mafia’ if he can, but since it’s been a while since the incident, it’s kind of just an inside joke now. It’s not too bad. They can still spend time alone together – and they do. A lot, in fact. But they just can’t… get back to where they were before. It’s like losing your lover before they even become your lover. Sad, huh?” “Very,” Jungkook agrees. The others were too preoccupied in the living room to hear his conversation with Jimin. “That really is a shame.” “Yeah. So, we don’t play that game anymore. But you know what’s fun? The ‘Not My Arms’ and ‘Not My Legs’ challenges. Now, they’re so much fun. You get a good chance to pretty much abuse each other so it ends up being a really freeing game. No need to be the nice guy. None of us are nice in any of these games, it’s wild.” Jungkook nods blankly, taking a sip of his tea without saying anything else. It was getting darker and darker outside, and he was wondering when and how the others were getting home. “Are you going home soon?” “I should. We all parked our cars at Hoseok’s bar, so we’re all going back there afterwards. I think the others are going for a drink though, which makes no sense because they all drove today. I’ll make sure to drag them away.” Good-looking, good-hearted and responsible. This was getting worse by the minute, and Jungkook was running out of escape routes. He just swallows down more tea without saying anything, then leaves the empty mug on the other side of the table. “I’m looking forward to Sunday.” Jimin smiles slowly, leaning his chin into one hand now. “Yeah. Me too. King of ‘Egg Roulette’ and king of ‘Mad Gab’ going out with each other. A pretty powerful force, right? Though, you’re king of one more thing now too.” Jungkook blanches. “What else am I king of?” “My heart.” “…wow.” Jungkook presses his hands against his face to stop himself from laughing, but he can’t and he ends up snorting up a chuckle. It catches the attention of the other boys, who immediately crowd around them, curious as to what they were saying beforehand that has Jimin blushing, but still grinning unabashedly. “Hey,” Yoongi started, sliding into a seat with a grin. “Now that we’re all here… a game of ‘Mafia’, anyone?”

#thank you for this #sarangahae!

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